Up The Chimnet Stack
by Jojapi
Summary: Alice has lived out her life, and in death returns to Wonderland for good. These are the beginnings of the adventures she encounters there.
1. Chapter 1: Up the chimney

_The story is written in a Lewis Carroll-cross-gothic fairytale way, or at least that was the intention. I tried to write it in the style of Lewis Carroll. I think I might have tried a bit too hard, though. _

_In case I didn't make it clear in the story, Alice is dead. It was partly inspired by the internet game Alice Is Dead! I make a few references to death throughout the narrative. Did I make them clear enough? _

_There will be more chapters, but probably not for a while yet. _

_Enjoy!_

_I do not own the character of Alice _

_***  
_

Alice drew her shawl tighter around her shoulders and shuffled closer to the fire. Around her the small cottage smelled of wood smoke and peppermint. It was a nice place. But what was the point of a nice place if there was no one to share it with? For all her children had grown up now, and all her grandchildren too. It was very dull around here now.

Alice sighed and closed her eyes. She was very tired. She felt like taking a small nap. She sank lower in her chair and her head lolled. The fire continued to crackle and as it slowly died away in the fireplace.

"But wait a minute," Alice said to herself, "Why was I taking a nap when I don't feel in the least bit tired? In fact, I feel full of energy!" Alice hopped down from the rocking chair to find a curious thing; where before she had been wearing a brown shawl, she was now wearing a summery yellow frock. It was a lovely yellow frock, though, so Alice didn't feel in the least bit worried.

Alice stood up straight and brought her feet together, for she had heard somewhere that this was the proper way for little girls to stand, before gazing around the room she was standing in.

"What a boring room," Alice said to herself, thinking she was alone, before clapping her hand to her mouth as she saw an old woman in a brown shawl sitting in the rocking chair Alice herself had been sitting in up to a moment ago. "She must have come in very quietly, but now it seems she is asleep... I must be very careful not to wake her up."

Alice tiptoed around the room, and stopped to warm herself in front of the few remaining coals in the fireplace, before wondering what to do next.

She was just about to go and see if the door was unlocked when she thought she heard a voice coming from the chimney. The fire was all but out now, so she stuck her head into the fireplace, and soon she heard the distant, worried sounding voice again, though she couldn't make out the words.

"I think it's coming from the top of the chimney," Alice mused. She was a clever girl, and knew that climbing up a chimney wasn't the best idea in the world. "But then again," she said out loud as she clambered into the fireplace and began to climb, "That voice did sound dreadfully worried."

The chimney was dark, and draughty, and dirty, and Alice began to think of climbing back down again when she realised she couldn't. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't take a step downwards. So she carried on climbing.

"I wonder how long I have been here," she said miserably. "It feels like forever."

Alice began to wonder if she would indeed be stuck inside the chimney forever, and was beginning to think horrible thoughts of what she would have to eat (spiders and soot, she thought would be most likely; how she longed for bread and blackberry jam!) when she saw a small glow of light not too far above her. Cheered by the thought of exiting the tunnel, she began to climb quicker, and soon after her head emerged from the tunnel.

"How strange," Alice said as she looked down to find herself standing in a large blue vase.

"I wouldn't stay standing there if I were you. You might turn into a flower, and then where would we be?" the same baleful voice Alice had heard in the fireplace came from a small sheep wearing spectacles and a bonnet. Alice felt sorry for the creature, as it had an extremely melancholy expression on its face as it helped Alice climb gingerly out of the vase.

"Oh, sheep! Why do you look so sad?" Alice wasn't entirely sure how one addressed a sheep, but 'Oh sheep' appeared to be just fine as it didn't seem in the least bit put out.

"Because, my young phantasm," the sheep carried on hurriedly so Alice had no time to ask what a phantasm was (Alice suspected that the sheep didn't know either) "I have all these flowers, but no one seems to want to buy them."

Alice looked around to see that the room was, indeed, full of a multitude of red and white flowers. "Maybe you should get more colours," She suggested.

"Alas, I can't. I'm completely colour blind, so I don't know red from green from blue from apple, you see."

"Apple isn't a colour, it's a fruit," Alice told the sheep matter of factly.

"What colour is an orange?" queried the sheep.

"Well... orange," Alice admitted

"So it stands to reason that an apple is the colour apple, yes?"

"That's not the same thing it all-" Alice began, before the sheep butted in "You'll buy some flowers, won't you?"

"I – er – I don't have any money," Alice felt very flustered, "But I could give you something else, I suppose..."

"Like what?" said the sheep warily, "A nut? A hat? Come along, we haven't got all day."

"A rhyme!" Alice blurted out.

"Is it valuable?"

"Oh yes, very valuable!" Alice nodded vigorously, and the sheep sat down and stared expectantly. "It is rotten luck," Alice said to herself, "that the moment I need a rhyme, I can't remember any at all!" But she recited one anyway.

"A wise old owl lived in an oak

Above a hungry fox who sang to provoke.

The more he heard the crosser he got

'Till the owl fell into the cooking pot."

The sheep leant back. "I'm sure that's not right," it said uncertainly, "I remember a moral in there somewhere."

Alice nodded seriously. "The moral is to never listen to anyone or you'll get very hot and bothered."

"That must be it." Said the sheep, handing Alice a bunch of flowers. "Now I must insist you leave; it's my lunch break, you see." Alice found herself shepherded out of the office and into a dark forest. "How very rude," Alice said huffily, and felt like going back and telling the sheep just that; but when she turned around she found that the door she had stepped through was nothing but a very solid tree.

"Oh dear," She sighed, as she took the first step into the dark wood, soon to be dissolved into the blackness. " I wonder where I will find myself next?"


	2. Chapter 2: One for sorrow, two for joy

_Obviously, I'm not an author, so my stories won't have the clever underlying messages or wit in them as Lewis Carroll's. So there's nothing deep in here. But anyway, enjoy._

***

"What an odd forest this is!" Alice exclaimed. She was walking through the wood, and indeed it was strange. Mushrooms that giggled and danced when touched littered the forest floor, and when the sun dappled light through the leaves onto the forest floor she thought she could see shapes moving beneath the surface of the ground. The shapes were dark and twisted, so Alice preferred not to look at them and keep her gaze up high; this is how she spotted the spider.

The spider was large, purple. and dangling on a thread right above her head, causing her to shriek and jump back.

"Oh, I wish you wouldn't scream so!" moaned the spider, clutching its head. "I have a rather delicate constitution and loud noises upset he me dreadfully."

"Oh," said Alice sheepishly. She had always thought of spiders as nasty, creepy things; she had not at all been expecting such a well spoken bug at all. "I'm very sorry."

"As long as we understand each other, you are quite forgiven." The spider lowered itself to the floor. Alice hadn't noticed before how the spider was wearing a top hat and a tail coat, and it sported monocles on many of its numerous eyes. It held out a leg grandly. "Would you care to walk with me a way?"

Alice accepted the spider and they walked together through the forest arm in arm, Alice listening to the spider talk.

"It is frightfully good luck that you turned up when you did, my dear, for I have an invitation to tea with the Grand Duke this afternoon, my dear, and the gal I had thought of taking with me has a habit of running away screaming whenever I do approach her. Quite a nervous individual she is, I'd say my dear, and she's always dropping her lunch as well, wot?"

All the time the spider had been speaking, Alice had been finding it harder and harder to walk. The ground seemed to have melted to the consistency of treacle, and although the spider, with its many legs, was having no trouble walking over the sticky substance, soon Alice was stuck fast.

"Whatever is the matter, my dear?" asked the spider, concern written all over its spindly body.

"I'm stuck in the ground," admitted Alice, who was beginning to think that maybe it was treacle; the air around her smelt sweet and sticky. "Is it possible for something to smell sticky?" she asked herself thoughtfully.

"Oh! My dear! So you are!" The spider's eyes widened in alarm and all its monocles tumbled to the ground with _plink!_ noises. "Stay right where you are, my dear, I shall run and get help!"

And with that the spider scuttled off through the trees, leaving Alice quite alone and glued to the ground.

"Oh, bother," thought Alice, who had been quite looking forward to tea with the Grand Duke. She hugged herself dolefully. It was getting cold, and dark, and around her the forest creaked and groaned. Alice was starting to feel very sorry for herself when she heard a fluttering of wings and looked up to see a huge magpie sitting in a branch of a particularly old and gnarled oak tree.

"Hello, Mister Magpie," she called, when to her dismay the bird burst into tears.

"Oh! Oh! Woe is me!" It sobbed pitifully, and Alice felt it was her duty to cheer the bird up. As she was a very practical child, she felt the best way to do this was to be stern.

"Now, stop that right now," she scolded, putting her hands on her hips. "A big bird like you should know better than to cry so. Whatever is the matter?"

The magpie swallowed. "The matter, miss, is that there's only one of me. What use is a single magpie? Oh!"

Alice thought for a moment, before a thought stuck to her. "Do you like shiny things?"

"Oh, yes miss, very much miss," The magpie nodded eagerly.

"Well, if you promise not to cry, you can have my hairpin." Alice slid her hairpin out of her long blond hair and held it out to the magpie. "How does that sound?"

As an answer the magpie swooped down and snatched the pin out of Alice's waiting hand. No sooner had it landed on the branch than it was joined by another magpie.

"Oh! I'm so happy!" trilled the magpie joyfully.

"So happy!" repeated the second, and the magpies spread their wings, bobbed their heads and span in circles in their happiness. Alice laughed and clapped her hands appreciatively. At once the magpies turned to look at her. There was a long, ominous pause.

"So what's a pretty miss like you doing in the woods, then? You should be at the Grand Duke's tea party."

Alice sighed. "I would, but I'm stuck in the mud, you see. The spider ran to get help."

The magpies laughed harshly. "He won't be back, you know," said a third magpie as it landed heavily on the branch. It clicked its beak, and Alice thought she saw something purple inside its mouth. She twisted her hair uncomfortably. "Such a pretty girl you are, though."

"Positively the prettiest girl in the wood," confirmed the second, and Alice blushed and tossed her hair.

"But you know," commented a fourth, as it too clasped onto the branch with scaly talons. "I'm not sure it is a girl."

"Yes, you're right," nodded the second.

"Could easily be a boy," observed the third.

"A strapping young boy out for a romp in the forest," cried the first.

"I am not a boy!" pouted Alice. "That is like me calling you a... a seagull or something."

"Heavens alive, imagine that! The boy seems to think we're nothing but common seagulls!" sneered the fourth haughtily.

"But if we were," remarked a fifth magpie, alighting on the now considerably lower branch "We would definitely be the silver-backed kind."

"Oh, but of course!"

"Undisputedly!"

"For sure!"

"That goes without saying!"

"Or, we would be golden eagles," said a sixth, nudging the birds along the cramped branch.

"I agree with him!"

"Absolutely correct!"

"Spot on!"

"He's right you know!"

"Please," Alice addressed the first magpie (or it may well have been the fourth, or the third; she couldn't tell) "Could you help me out of this clearing? I can't move by myself." She felt she must leave soon, before the magpie's constant agreements would drive her mad.

The magpies seem to consider. "Well, miss," one of them spoke up; Alice was sure this time that it was the first. "That would depend."

"On what?" asked Alice curiously; the magpies had stopped their chattering and were looking quite grave.

"It's a secret," hissed a seventh magpie conspiratorially. All the other magpies bobbed their heads in agreement whilst babbling "A secret, a secret." The branch bobbed up and down with them, creaking in a long suffering kind of way.

"I promise I won't tell anyone," Alice whispered loudly. She found the magpies quite funny, but at the same time their blank beady eyes bothered her.

"Oh, well if you promise, we'll show you!" The magpies clamoured their agreement and rose in unison off the branch, flocking around Alice and squawking loudly in her ear.

"We'll show you! We'll show you!" Sharp talons gripped Alice's arms and strong feathery wings cuffed her all over her body. Alice felt scratches appear on her arms and neck, and the magpie's heavy bodies were mobbing and suffocating her.

After a few minutes of this Alice began to beat the magpies off with panicked cries of "Let me go!"

"Suit yourself!" Cawed the magpies, and with a great flutter of wings and loud, rough laughter the magpies disappeared in a cloud of feathers.


	3. Chapter 3: The Castle of Tapestries

_This chapter is kind of just linking the last one and the next one, so it's not the best quality. The next chapter is the one I've been focusing on writing for ages, so it should be pretty long._

_I do not own the character of Alice._

Alice stayed stock still for several minutes before opening her eyes to find herself in a dark, dusty room. She looked down and found a bunch of feathers gripped tightly in each of her hands. She dropped them, nursing her scratched and bleeding hands, then surveyed her surroundings. The room was built of worn, grey blocks of stone, and coving every available surface were moth bitten tapestries; draped over tables, chairs, piled high in unstable heaps. Cobwebs flowed from the corners of the ceiling, dust clinging to them in a stringy mess. Alice wandered over to a tapestry and looked over it warily. Scenes of war met her eyes. The figures were surprisingly lifelike; Alice found the expressions on their faces too lifelike for her. She shuddered and pushed the tapestry aside to have a look at the next one, which was much the same. Deciding she had had enough, Alice hurried over to the heavy oak door and pushing it open to much grating and groaning from the ancient hinges.

Alice stuck her head out of the doorway. The corridor didn't differ much from the room, except for the long red carpet stretching away in both directions.

"I wonder which way I should go?" Alice mused out loud. A stray memory from the distant past meandered through her mind;

"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to..."

"Well," she said decisively, "I would quite like to get out of here, so I suppose down would be the best way forward." With that she turned to the left and began descending the stone steps which she supposed would lead her down and out of the mournful castle.

The stairs seemed to stretch on forever. Alice tried to make the descent more interesting by singing, but the echoes came back to her twisted and discordant, so she tried skipping instead, but the slippery carpet was unstable underfoot. She tried reciting her times tables, humming and counting the steps, but nothing worked; the corridor still yawned on in front of her, showing no signs of stopping. Defeated, Alice sat down and began to cry into her apron. "How I wish I could leave this horrible place!" she wailed.

"Don't cry, little maid. Crying does nothing except bloat one's features, and to spoil such a pretty face would be a shame!" Alice lifted her red rimmed eyes and gasped. In front of her stood the loveliest woman she had ever seen. The rouge silk of her skirts fell elegantly to the floor, and the bodice of her dress was tied with shining red ribbons. She held a fan of feathers in front of her face, which perched atop and arching neck, masses of curled raven hair piled lushly on top of her head. She leant forward gracefully and helped Alice to her feet. Alice took in her facial features, entranced by the crimson lips shadowed beneath the red and gold Venetian mask hiding the woman's cold black eyes.

"That's better, darling. Now then. Why were you crying?" Alice gazed blearily up into the gold spangled mask, drifting on a cloud of sweet smelling perfume, and found she couldn't remember. A deep bass voice spoke out of the shadows.

"Come come, my sparrow, it seems clear to me that the child is quite gormless. Where did you find such a dull crumb?" the woman dropped Alice like a rotten apple and giggled girlishly as a handsomely dressed man steeped forward. His sky blue tailcoat with swirling gold details complimented his skin, which was as dark as the woman's was pale. Above his defined cheekbones glinted the same bottomless black eyes as Alice had seen behind the mask.

"Don't be so naughty!" the lady laid her hand daintily on the man's chest, batting her eyelids and smiling.

Alice shuffled uncomfortably. The couple were beautiful, but seemed wrong. Their words seemed to slide off them like water droplets, and Alice found herself having to try hard to remember what they had said. Her train of thought was rudely interrupted by the gentleman as he said:

"Now sparrow, let us go; we do not want to be late for the ball!" the lady slipped her arm into his and without another glance at Alice they continued down the red carpet.

"How rude!" hissed Alice, but not so loud that they could hear her. "Well, the woman spoke to me, at least. I think that counts as an invitation to wherever they're going. After all, they didn't say I couldn't come!" this feeble logic seemed to Alice to be a good enough excuse to get out of the claustrophobic corridor.

And on that note, Alice stepped down into the darkness behind the pair as they made their way silkily towards the ball.


	4. Chapter 4: The Masquerade Ball

_Next chapter. Sorry it took so long!_

_I do not on the character of Alice._

***

Alice stepped through the arching doors. It had taken her an age to pluck up the courage to open the jewelled doors and enter the party, and now she was inside it was all she could do to gape in wonder at the scene that met her eyes. Pristine tapestries stretched up the walls which met a ceiling so high that Alice had to crane her neck to see it. A huge mural depicting angels in a clear sky covered it, and a bejewelled chandelier tumbled flecks of the brightest light onto the dancers.

It was they who really caught Alice's eye; hoards of colourful dresses swirled and glided in wide arcs, led by noblemen in feathered hats. Covering every face were masks; black, white, feathered, furry, rounded, sculpted and spiky, with the same black beady eyes peering through the eyeholes. And covering every surface, dress, jacket and person was gold, glimmering and hypnotic.

"Welcome." Alice turned to see a plump penguin in a tuxedo bowing low to her. It stood straight, flapping its orange feet, and adjusted the white cloth draped over its flipper. "Would her highness care for some refreshments?"

"Oh!" said Alice. "I'm not a queen!" but even as she said it, she recalled a vague memory of sitting with a red and a white queen with a crown perched atop her own head. "Well… I might be," she admitted uncertainly to the penguin, who bowed again and handed her a glass of violently hissing champagne. Alice was surprised (and delighted) to look down and find herself in a brilliant gold ball gown.

"How wonderful!" she exclaimed, only to find that the penguin had left to join the other birds wending their way through the crowd with trays of haute snacks.

"Excuse me," said a timid voice. Alice jumped as a small reptilian head poked itself over the rim of her cup. "May I go? All this hissing does tire one dreadfully."

"Of course," said Alice, and the small snake slithered away. She was disappointed to see that the champagne was flat. She set it down on an occasional table and made her way over to a cluster of comfortable chairs and recliners where sat a group of dignified looking animals. Gingerly she sat next to a portly walrus, who eyed her suspiciously through his gold-rimmed monocle before saying loudly "And how are you enjoying our party?"

"It's very beautiful," Alice replied timidly, "and all the dancers seem so happy. May I ask what the occasion is?"

"The occasion? Why, no occasion, my dear girl!" crowed a bright cockerel in a green velvet suit. "One does not need an occasion to throw a party!"

"Indeed?" said Alice, who had never heard of a party with no reason to it before.

"Indeed!" barked a stout terrier in a red smoking jacket decked out with shining medals. His thick grey moustache bounced as he spoke. "this ball has been going on since before I was even a young nipper, and will carry on long after I go to my final sleep. The candles never stop burning, and the tapestries are replaced every other Thursday. And these drinks," he motioned to his whiskey, "never stop flowing! This is the life, my dear. I'm sure you will enjoy it immensely."

"That would explain all those old tapestries upstairs," thought Alice. She looked around the hall at the new tapestries, while the dog carried on talking despite her wandering attentions.

"These dancers, eh! Oh for the boundless energies of youth. I'm surprised that you aren't dancing, a beautiful young woman like yourself!"

Alice laughed. "Why, I'm only seven years old!" looking down at herself, she was astounded to find that she had grown into a young woman of dancing age.

The terrier carried on rambling. "Really? Well, not to worry, not to worry. Time does skip around here so. I find that the usual laws don't apply here, wot!"

Whilst the terrier was speaking, a young man in a violet suit and mask with feathers and dark, curly hair approached Alice. He bowed, showing perfect olive skin as he held out his hand to her as an invitation to dance. Alice took his hand delicately. Faces swished past in a blur of colour and jewels clinked and rattled. The firm hand led Alice into the throng, and she too became part of the dance. Gracefully she twirled and glided, effortlessly in time with her partner, and all at once they were the centre of attention. Alice laughed, caught in the joy and excitement of the moment.

The dance went on. Amid the crowd new partners came and went, seemingly never tiring, but the faint fog of fatigue was settling around Alice. As a new hand took Alice's she bowed her head and excused herself, but as she drew away the hand tightened and pulled her back. The dancers drew in tighter around Alice, and the terrier's words came back to her: "The ball has been going on, and will go on…"

Panic settled on Alice as she tried to exit the dance yet again, but the grip on her hands was of steel. The dancers pressed in even closer, and Alice noticed properly for the first time their eyes, beady and rodent like, as they began to chant "Dance with us, dance with us, dance with us forever…"

Alice let out a piercing scream as the dancers began to grip her with slithery fingers. She whipped around, and in her panic ripped the mask off her face. In that moment the dancers shrank back, hissing, cowering.

"Over here, my dear!" Alice turned to the sound of an eager bark, and began to run through the clamouring crowd towards the terrier.

"Through here!" he growled as she reached him, motioning towards a tiny door in the wall. Alice dropped to her knees and, as the terrier growled and snapped at the snarling, skulking dancers, she disappeared into the dark chute behind the door.


End file.
